FBF > PP > NYC > FBF and a KO

By Daniel McMahon

Position, position, position. Harlem Skyscraper Cycling Classic. Photo: Jessica Heyman

MY RECENT TWO-WHEELED EXPLOITS served to remind me that bike racing is a pretty tough sport, as if I needed a reminder.

For much of the season things seemed relatively easy, and it was one race after another, and in each one I felt things were going better and better and that I was progressing well toward some bigger results in some bigger races. But the recent hot and muggy weather, some dramatic crashes, and an untimely mechanical made this spell of midsummer racing an exercise in gritting one’s teeth.

A couple of weeks back I set myself to the goal to do four races over seven days, and to get at least one solid result. The four were a race at the Tuesday Night Training Series at Floyd Bennett Field out near JFK, round three of the Lucarelli & Castaldi Cup in Brooklyn’s Prospect Park, then the big crit that I really wanted to do well at, the Harlem Skyscraper Cycling Classic in Manhattan, and finally back to Floyd for another Tuesday night training race. These would set me up for a week off the bike to rest. As I have plans to race a full cyclocross season this fall, which should run through to the new year, the rest week comes almost exactly at my midseason.

Floyd Bennett Field
The Tuesday before Harlem started things, and I looked to doing my first pro/123 race at FBF for training and to kick-start my week of racing. It was a good outing for me, had a few digs, and generally felt comfortable. The following days my coach had me do a recovery ride, then some speed work in the form of short, all-out interval efforts to get the legs ready for Harlem.

The 90-degree heat and humidity made Harlem especially hard for me and my Irish DNA, and I could not drink enough water. Photo: Matt Koschara

Prospect Park
This was the third round of the Lucarelli & Castaldi Cup. It seemed ages since I’d raced in the series as a Cat. 4. Now in the pro/123 bunch, I was keen to be racing with some of the elite riders of my team, including Lisban Quintero, Alejandro Guzman and Euri Madera, guys who I really couldn’t have imagined racing with when the season started. I made a good effort during the race to stay active and at or near the front, and I felt mostly fine, taking a dig a few times, chasing a few jumps, trying my legs in a break or two, the usual park madness. But in the end it came down to a fairly fast pace, and heading into the hill for the second-to-last time I felt quietly confident that I could help in at least a small way get the strongest guys on my team to the front, and maybe even help lead out the sprint.

After the hill the pace picked up on the backstretch and I hit that nasty pothole on the right side of the road, though I tried to avoid it, and ended up banging my rear wheel into it hard and, bang, popped my tubular. Then splat, as the sealant inside from a previous puncture exploded all over my rear triangle and legs. I rolled to the finish, having cut through the park, just in time to see an on-from Scott Savory of Adler take a long sprint for the win. That was kind of cool, even if my teammate Gavin took second. At least Gavin got enough points to take the leader’s jersey.

Harlem Skyscraper Cycling Classic
I admit: I was geeked for a big result in Harlem in 2010. Last year I did the Cat. 4 race and didn’t do much at all, taking 20-something in the end. This time around, as a Cat. 3, I wanted to place, at least, if not pull out a top 5 or, dare I say, a win. I knew there were some good riders racing, and there were some guys who could sprint faster than me any day of the week, so I set my sites on getting into a break, ideally about midrace. Then, the idea would be to attack my companions or out-sprint them. Well, this was the idea. Plan B, if it came down to a fieldsprint, was to take a late flyer in the second-to-last lap or in the last lap, the idea here being that guys would not want to chase, thus allowing me a good size gap and to ride in solo. It is nice to dream!

Then enter the reality of bike racing. First, the promoters were clearly out to ruin my chances by holding the race in extreme heat and humidity. Rude! They then threw in a blazing sun that shone down hardest on me. And just riding down my block as I set out from Brooklyn I felt the oppressive heat come over my speckled white flesh. At a stop light my front tire sunk into a crack in the street filled with fresh melting tar. I drank as much as I could from the minute I woke up (and a gallon or two the day before) and tried to stay cool and in the shade when possible. This is all to say I don’t do well in the heat. Give me 60s and and a tad cool and I will thrive. So what the hell was I doing racing Harlem?

My teammate Abraham Soler snagged seventh in Harlem. Photo: Matt Koschara

I squeezed into the first row at the start line and, once we got going, stayed top 10 or 15 most of the race. I didn’t feel too bad but also not like I had fast legs. I also noticed that other guys I often race against didn’t look very fast, much like me today, and this gave me a sense that I could maybe do all right. After just 10 minutes I started to succumb to the heat, though, and even if our race was scheduled for just 45 minutes, I felt it was going to be tough to stay at the front and not perish from heat stroke. I normally don’t sweat from my legs but today was apparently an exception. As riders took flyers and small groups of three or four tried to get away, I did my best to stay vigilant and went with the lead riders at the front, happy to let others chase. My plan to get into a break seemed more and more unlikely as the laps ticked down and the heat took its toll. On the plus side, I had no problems going with the surges and held my position without much challenge. I started thinking about the finish and how to win this thing.

It was gruppo compacto as we raced four laps to go, and heading into turn four and into the homestretch I was riding top 15 or so, rolling pretty close to the wheel in front of me, about 25 mph or faster, when the rider clips his pedal in the turn and goes down instantly. There was nothing for me to do either but ride right over him and his bike. It was one of those elongated nanoseconds wherein you’re moving in slow motion and are helpless but have to just hope for the best. Well, that is what happened to me anyway. All I remember is the blur of motion, riding up and over the downed rider, a bike lying sideways under me, then landing on my feet and surfing on my shoes for 10 feet, coming to a stop standing upright. Did that just happen? was my first thought. As I recall the other rider was OK, and the rest of the field was already up the road. I figured if I’m OK my carbon bike must be ruined. One or the other, right?

But after a quick survey it was shockingly all in one piece, with nothing busted or bent or even scratched, save a tear or two in the bar tape. Then I hear a friend saying something to me from the sidelines. “Get going! Get your free lap!” Well, why not? I wasn’t sure if I could get a lap at this point but I rode up to the official and got back in the race. I was put on the back of the field and started to move up. It took almost two laps to reach about top 20, and getting up much farther seemed hard to do as the speed was now upped pretty fast and it was last lap. I came into the final turn of the race about 20th or so, and took the far outside line, going way out right around the turn. I hoped to sneak up on the side, jump past a bunch of guys, maybe get top 10.

But as I was coming through the turn I had my head up and saw a rider going sideways across the road, another flying up over the field through the air, and immediately after a slew of bodies and bikes littering the place. As I rode up to the carnage, swerving around and through fallen riders, still more crashes were happening, with riders still falling off their bikes and banging into still more riders. It looked like 20 riders went down, but I’m not sure how many. I managed to get though and finish, again, like last year, 20-something.

At Harlem, my Cat. 3 race ended rather disasterously. Photo: Matt Koschara

I learned later that a break of four had gotten away. It included Willie Payton of WS United, who bridged to three riders who got away in the last lap or two, when I was busy crashing. I also heard that James Joseph, also of United, was first to go down in the bunch sprint after overcooking the turn and hitting the barriers. Scott Savory of Adler got caught up in that crash and, like me, landed on his feet before sliding and falling on his butt. A spectator somehow got headbutted by a crashing rider and was knocked down pretty hard, later to be taken away by ambulance.

In the end I had to be happy that I escaped a crash unscathed and avoided the big pile-up in the finish, which I probably would have been part of had I not crashed earlier. There was nothing to do about the heat.

Much more fun was hanging around after and watching the pro women’s and men’s races. You can read my race reports for those races on VeloNews. See full results on Velocity Results.

Floyd Bennett Field
Unhappy with the way Harlem played out, I headed down Flatbush Avenue on Tuesday hoping to salvage any form I had and make a good showing in the pro/123 race. I stuck with some of my tried-and-true formula by getting there early and doing two or three good warmup laps. From the start I rode off the front with three others and we gave a medium-effort push to start an early break, but that tomfoolery lasted but a lap or less. Again, it was hot and I felt like riding conservatively. Whereas the previous week I was happy attacking and riding at the front and all that fun, this time I was content to sit in. After the early break attempt, I drifted to the back of the pack after a few laps. There I just sat in and cruised, happy to get some motorpacing in my legs.

But it was an aggressive race and sitting in was not exactly easy. Some guys were getting caught out and dropped. With two to go it was all together, and the skies that had been threatening all evening finally opened up. The rain did not have that cooling effect I had hoped it would, and it made the run-in to the last lap pretty hectic. My glasses were getting pretty fogged up too. In the last lap I moved up and found myself in OK position going into turn four, where I passed a slew of riders who were sitting in. I came out of the turn on the heels of the main sprinters when next thing I know one of the Burrowes brothers of WS United pops out of his pedals and nearly loses control of his bike. That messed up a lot of guys’ sprint. The rain had made things slick, too, but I managed to pass some riders and hold on for 15th. While clearly a few of the usual top guys had a botched finish, which allowed me to finish better than normal, I was happy to ride in top 15 nonetheless.

Results here.

Thus ended a busy week of amateur bike racing in New York City. Next June through July I think I’m going to seriously consider racing somewhere a little less intense weather-wise. Ireland sounds good.